Down the Hill from Here
by Castell
Summary: Meet Emma Summers and Adam Handley, two artists with some very strange encounters with Mark Cohen and Benny Coffin the Third. They also have a baseball bat beaten fridge and an ugly red chair.
1. Rejecting People Is Fun

_This is my first Rent fan fiction. Well, except for the crackfics I write with friends, it's the first. For some odd reason, it reminds me of Disney. I also _

_apologize if the line breaks are screwed up. I had to do them myself. This is why I hate Word Pad. Oh, well. Enjoy._

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**Rejecting people is fun, but crushing dreams is even better.**

"Close up on Emma Summers! She just got fired from another writing gig! That's okay, though. That crazy bee-yotch can sing her own songs.

C'mon, Em, open your eyes! The shot isn't good with you shutting them pretty greens."

"Shut up, Adam," I mutter. I shut my eyes even harder. His camera flashes.

"Wake up, Em! It's like two. You can't sleep forever. Plus I'm going out tonight," Adam says and puts his old camera down-a rare moment. He sits in

the ugly red recliner he insists on keeping. I open my eyes.

"Where?" I ask. I shift my body a little on our new brown leather couch.

"Out."

"Where?" I ask again. Adam rolls his eyes.

"Dinner."

"Oh, God. It's not with that ugly cross dresser is it? What was his/her name? Jamie? Or was it Jimmy?"

"What do you have against cross dressing?"

"Nothing. But seriously what was their name?"

"George."

"Oh."

"I'm not going with George, Em. I'm going with a guy named Jake Spinner," Adam informs. He gets off the ugly red recliner. I finally sit up on the

couch. My head spins. Oooh. Dizzy.

"Like a date? Don't rebound. It's not healthy for you," I mumble. Adam chuckles.

"Like you did with Benny?" he asks.

"Oh, shut up. That was a few years ago," I protest.

"But you did go with him for a year and a half, then you quickly rebounded to Mark for a whole two months. Whoo!" Adam argues.

"That was a few years ago!" I repeat. Adam laughs, getting himself a glass of orange juice from our beaten fridge. When I say beaten, I mean

beaten. Beaten by a baseball bat. Thanks, Benny. It was so very kind of you to beat our fridge four years ago. It would like to thank you by

randomly shutting off in the dead of night and causing us to have to buy more food because everything spoils. Thanks a lot.

"Whatever," Adam says in his gay girl voice. He uses that voice to mock me, but usually his boyfriends have the voice. It's quite annoying.

"You whatever," I hiss. Adam chuckles again. I hope he chokes on his orange juice.

I walk over to the beaten fridge and pull out the milk carton. I take a swig. Adam cringes. I grin and spit the milk into his orange juice glass. Adam

stares at the orange juice/milk in his glass. He glares at me next.

"One point Em, zero for Adam," I say sweetly and go to the bathroom. I won.


	2. Letting People Win

**Letting people win should be illegal. **

"ADAM!" I scream. The water in the shower turned from a sauna to an icy waterfall. I shut the water off and grab my robe. That boy is dead. I can hear the toilet still flushing. I'm going to kill him. I'll toss him out the window from the fifth floor of the apartments, then say he was trying to get a good shot but fell over the side. It was a tragegy, and I'll miss him so much. What a load of a crap.

"Yes, Emma?" Adam said through the door of the bathroom.

"You're dead," I mutter, my hair dripping onto the broken tiles.

"Looks like it's a tie for now," he says. I hear his footsteps fade away from the door. I tie my green robe tighter and slam the door open. I can sense Adam stifling laughter. Dead.

"I have a job interview," I say as I emerge from my bedroom, dressed in my rocker t-shirt over a black thermal, my old dark skinny jeans getting even more rips in them. I toss on my black boots.

"With who?" Adam asks from the kitchen. He's not drinking orange juice or milk. It's water.

"This weird rock band from Sante Fe."

"Ah, that's why the attire." I find my favorite hat. It has so many tiny little colours knitted in it. It's got a mostly orange and blue tone to it, though. It even has cute little pom-poms that hang down from the strings on each side. I grab my brown leather jacket and put it on.

"Duh," I reply a little late. Adam grins.

"If you would let me dress you, I could come up with so many cute outfits. But you usually just dress in t-shirts and jeans. Man, would it kill you to wear a dress now and then?" He asks.

"Oh, go be a metro somewhere else. And yes, it would kill me," I shoot back. Adam throws his head back in laughter.

"Honey, I'm not metro. You of all people know that." Adam takes a drink of water. "And you'd look very nice in a dark purple dress with some red heels. Then put that silver necklace that George left here on, let me do your hair, and you'd be a styling babe," he adds.

"Whatever," I groan. I stick my wallet in my pocket and grab my bag full of song-writing materials. Adam waves me off.

Walking through the streets of New York, I feel the need for a good coffee. I could have made one at home, but I don't need Adam nagging me anymore today. I find the Starbucks and enter it. A nice German chocolate iced coffee sounds really good in a 20 oz. I get in the slightly large line and wait, tapping my foot against the floor. I hope I look okay for my meeting in an hour. I should have straightened my hair. I tug on my redish brown curls. Then I see him.

Benny.

Oh, snap.

And Benny sees me.

Oh, snap. Oh, snap.

Benny starts walking over.

Oh, snap, oh, snap, OH, SNAP!

"Emma, long time no see!"

"Benny."

"How's Adam?"

"Fine."

"You look pretty today."

"Interview."

"Ah. Can you say anything but one word?"

"Still married to Buffy?"

"Allison."

"Whatever," I mutter. Benny looks me over again. He gives me a puzzled look.

"How'd you know, anyway?" he asks.

"You didn't answer my question," I say.

"It's complicated," he replies. "How'd you know?"

"Adam's idol is Mark. We go over a lot."

"That must be awkward."

"It is," I say. It's silent between the two of us. Benny is the first to speak.

"So, Emma. Do you want have dinner sometime?"

"No. My fridge can't handle another break-up."

"Sorry about that."

Silence. There's just something about Benny.

"Please? A friendly dinner. You can take Adam," he proposes.

"Maybe."


End file.
